"I hope not," she said. "I want to do something more with my life."

"But you don't know what?"

Candy shook her head.

"Don't worry, it'll come to you," Norma said. "I hope it does, because you don't want to get stuck here."

"No, I don't. I really don't."

"So you've got a project about Chickentown—"

"Yes. And Mom said there were some things that went on in the hotel I should find out about. She said you'd know what she was talking about."

"Did she indeed?" said Norma, with a teasing little smile.

"She said to ask you about Henry—"

"– Murkitt."

"Yes. Henry Murkitt."

"Poor old Henry. What else did she say? Did she tell you about Room Nineteen?"

"No. She didn't mention anything about a room. She just gave me the name."

"Well, I can tell you the tale," Norma said. "But I don't know if Murkitt's story is the kind of thing your Miss Schwartz will be looking for.

"Why not?"

"Well, because it's rather dark ," Norma said. "Tragic, in fact."

Candy smiled. "Well, Mom says I'm morbid, so I'll probably like it."

"Morbid, huh? All right," said Norma. "I guess I should tell you the whole darn thing. You see, Chickentown used to be called Murkitt."

"Really? That wasn't in any of the books about Minnesota."

"You know how it is. There's the history that finds its way into the books and there's the history that doesn't."

"And Henry Murkitt?"

"—is part of the history that doesn't."

"Huh."

Candy was fascinated. Remembering what her mother had said about doing some detective work, she took out her notebook and began to write in it. Murkitt. History we don't know .

"So the town was named after Henry Murkitt?"

"No," said Norma. "It was named after his grandfather Wallace Murkitt."